Wait On This
by onlyfrequency
Summary: Over and over, a dizzying blur of ice and snow and steel and bone, and in the end twelve petals spent and the arrancar still standing. Hitsugaya panted. He still didn't know what he was waiting for.


**Disclaimer;** I don't own Bleach. 'nuff said.

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He sighed, pushed the papers aside. Expense reports, mortality rates, enemy assessments. No single sheet to document his interest in the fourth division, just the added papers from the fifth. 

He sighed.

It had become difficult to remain a captain as well as Hitsugaya Toushirou. Hyourinmaru did what he could, but it was little on the surface that was slowly breaking under the pressure, no matter how well his mind and heart stood.

No matter how well his mind stood, at least.

He grabbed the dragon blade, shouldering it effortlessly and sparing the briefest of glances at his slumbering vice captain before leaving the office. The grumbling roar was a comfort he needed, and he brushed past patrols easily enough on his way to the gate.

The hell butterfly was already waiting for him.

Everything seemed to be waiting, waiting on a war, on Aizen to move, on Hinamori-

There was snow on the ground, a light covering like icing sugar on a cake, the landscape more comforting now than ever; more than seeing the sky had ever done. He'd always preferred the gray cloudy skies anyway. They were more of what he'd known when he was alone, as he was now. A single soul wandering unseen in a world that didn't believe in the afterlife.

He didn't feel any disturbances, but everyone was waiting. For Christmas, for the shops to close, for dinner, for-

Hyourinmaru rumbled. His mind was wondering.

He couldn't work out what exactly he was waiting for. A hollow to appear? To feel he was making a difference? For Hinamori to simply stop?

To feel brave.

Hyourinmaru rumbled.

The captain pushed on, headed for higher ground.

The arrancar almost found him first, but he leapt back just in time at the wavering of reiatsu, the excess pressure in the air. He skidded across the light blanket of snow, snarled, pulled Hyourinmaru free as he assessed the creature in front of him. Not Espada. It didn't look complete enough to be a Numeros. Another reject?

No time to question it, the arrancar already taking a swing with a biting laugh that reminded him of cold and searing pain in his shoulder, of misplaced trust. Hyourinmaru countered easily enough, locked them into place. He refused to allow himself to fall on patrol. Not that he had things to live for - he was a soul, dead, couldn't live for anything but held onto his existence anyway in some vain hope that what he did would mean something. He countered again, blade slicing into the arrancar's hand but not deep enough, the two flinging apart to stand on air, watch each other. Waiting.

He moved first, shunpyo placing him behind, Hyourinmaru released into shikai form, the dragon's rumbles translated into the whistling of wind, an increase in the previously gentle snowfall, into a biting hit across the arrancar's back. But it missed the mask remnant and Hitsugaya cursed softly as he moved out of range. He didn't expect the arrancar to follow with a sonido, to bat him to the ground with its hand, that laughter again. He followed with a wince, with his bankai chilling the air further, ice creeping across everything, twelve petals proud, his final move to defend what he believed in.

They clashed.

Over and over, a dizzying blur of ice and snow and steel and bone, and in the end twelve petals spent and the arrancar still standing. Hitsugaya panted.

The arrancar hit him again, the captain tumbling into ground and snow, awaiting the next hit while willing all his strength to reform, for his bankai to reshape. _It was snowing_, but he felt drained, tired. Unwilling to wait for a reason to continue, unwilling to find his bravery and strength when the only thing he really wanted to defend refused to believe in him.

But the second blow never came, and breathing became easier, Hyourinmaru telling him to get up and see why he was still alive.

He remembered then. Snow in Rukongai, himself near exhaustion, tumbling to the ground desperate to defend his scrap of bread. And a flurry of movement, of dark hair and kind eyes protecting him from the bullies and blows she couldn't stand herself.

Had he been waiting for that? Was his bravery all just a show, waiting for her to catch up and defend him, his name, his strength, his need to exist?

Was he kidding himself to think that all he had ever done could be in her name? Had no part of it been done for his own name, to prove himself-

He looked.

He couldn't wait anymore.

Calling Hyourinmaru back to him he stood, forced himself to her side, to support her arm that threatened to give way under the brute strength of an arrancar. Still so weak. But she held strong.

Was he waiting to play hero?

Hyourinmaru replaced Tobiume as she summoned her kidou, Matsumoto waiting in case it looked like her captain would fall again.

Had he waited so he could show her how strong he had become?

The arrancar was rendered immobile, and he thanked everything he knew for her long practices and burned hands, for all the times he'd sat and told her off for working so hard to learn all she could about kidou, for all the soft smiles he'd earned in response. It was just what she did. It was just what he did, and Hyourinmaru sliced bone clear through, the arrancar dealt with at last.

Hitsugaya collapsed to his knees, tired. Too tired to bat away the hand that moved to his forehead to check his temperature, too tired to look at the face full of concern that checked his injuries. He remembered her doing that before, once the bullies had gone, nearly crying from her own pain. Was she hurt this time too?

She'd introduced herself with a smile despite it, offered him an extra slice. He'd followed her the next day, and the next. Until the bullies had appeared again. That time he'd taken the blows and defended her, suffered through her poking everywhere it hurt and dragging him home with her. He hadn't left.

Was a part of him waiting for them to go home together? The days before Aizen had been easier. The days before shinigami were easier.

But he'd wanted the strength and bravery to stand before her, and she'd wanted the ability to protect everyone.

He waited for time to rewind.

But Hinamori helped him to his feet, helped him walk. Helped him all the way to the fourth division with that same smile she'd had the day they'd met just as she'd taken him to meet Granny.

Time was moving forward, and he went with it.

He hadn't realized she was holding his hand until she let go, bowing with a stiffness of unused muscles. He wanted her to stay, but Unohana was ushering her out of the room, and he was too drowsy to speak, medicine and the fight acting against his will.

He slept. And she waited for him to wake up, to see the sun rise, to help with paperwork that was rightfully hers in the first place.

She waited for him to stop waiting on the past.

And he waited to see that smile again.


End file.
